


The Impossible Bet

by pennywritesthings (orphan_account)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Explicit Language, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 09:57:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9542618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/pennywritesthings
Summary: You just really liked Joel’s sweaters.Tumblr Anon said: Seriously have a thing for Joel and his baggy sweaters. Reader and his sweaters please?





	

“Fuck! Fuck this motherfucking game, I fucking hate myself! Argh!”

You weren’t quite sure when you made the transition from third highest gamerscore in the office to a walking scream of the word fuck, but you were pretty sure it was the moment Michael had bet you a fifty that you couldn’t beat Impossible Game in less than 300 deaths.

You were at 250 deaths so far in the first level pack, and you were absolutely ready to jump off your roof. Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, you paused the game, relaxing on the couch you were perched on, closing your eyes and leaning your head back. When that didn’t help, you yanked on the drawstrings of your boyfriend’s baggy hoodie (one of them, anyway. He had to have at least fifteen), pulling the hood around your face and screaming, the fabric muffling the sound.

It wasn’t even about the god damn fifty bucks anymore. It was about your pride and reputation as a chick gamer in an office full of dudes.

“FUCK MY LIFE!” You shouted one last time before vowing to continue the game calmly and with a clear head in order to beat it. You took another deep breath, and this time, smiled while doing it. Joel may not have worn this particular hoodie since you stole it from him when you first started dating, but it still smelled like him.

Shit. Speaking of.

“Y/N?” Joel muttered, shuffling into the living room wearing his Caboose pajama pants and a plain white t-shirt. He was rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand and his hair looked like an absolute mess – albeit a very cute mess – so you figured he must have fallen asleep even though he told you he was going to stay up to work on some scripts.

“Hi, Joel. I thought you weren’t going to bed?” You eyed the clock on the wall to the right of you sidelong, a little surprised at the time. “Honey, it’s 10 o’clock. Why are you going to bed so early?”

Joel scowled at you the best that he could while tired, and slowly walked over to stand in front of you. He squinted his eyes at you, and you couldn’t help but giggle. “Question number one: is that my hoodie? The one I’ve been looking for for months now?”

You raised a slender eyebrow. “I don’t know, Joel. Have you been looking for it for months now?”

“If I was more awake, I would sass you so hard.”

“Mm. Promises, promises.”

He seemed to ignore that in favor of more questioning. “Question dos: what game is so important that you have to scream at it while I’m asleep and wake me up?”

You gestured to the screen, and he turned around and looked at it and then looked back at you inquisitively. “Michael bet me fifty bucks that I couldn’t beat Impossible Game within 300 deaths.” You explained, shrugging a nonchalant shoulder now that you were calmer about the situation.

“I see.” You had a feeling that he didn’t really see, and that, much like every time he tried to talk to people when he was this tired, it was all going in one ear and out the other, but you humored him by remaining silent. “I’ll give Michael the fifty if you turn off the game and come cuddle with me until we fall asleep. Bonus points if you keep the sweater on, because you look fucking adorable.”

You smiled up at your long time boyfriend and did as he asked, turning off the Xbox and TV, and stretching your muscles as you stood up and then pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek before grabbing his hand and walking him to the bedroom.

He all but tripped into bed like his bones simply didn’t exist, and since you were still holding onto his hand, you fell right along with him. You didn’t mind though. You didn’t land on him, which meant he was comfortable, and you only had to scoot over a little bit to be in cuddling position.

“G’night, babe.”

You smiled into his chest as he casually draped an arm over your waist. “Goodnight, Joel.”

You couldn’t help but grin even wider at the thought that you had to tell him he said he would pay Michael fifty dollars when he didn’t remember this in the morning.


End file.
